NEW YORK ” It was one of those moments, one that you know you will always remember, mixed emotions seeping into the cold air of Central Park.
Standing there at the Strawberry Fields memorial, listening to a homeless man deliver an eloquent testimonial to John Lennon on the 27th anniversary of his death, then sending a cell-phoned picture of the “Imagine” tribute to my daughter Jennifer who celebrated her 27th birthday on Saturday. And then calling home to talk to my other daughter, whose middle name is Lennon.
Dec. 8 has always been an emotional day for me because it was the day my first child was born and the day the music died. But this Dec. 8 tops them all.
We wandered over to the Dakota, the apartment building where Lennon lived. On the spot where he was murdered a young man sang “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and played his acoustic guitar.
The smell of horse dung drifted through the air as handsome cabs breezed by. Central Park is really an amazing place. You can sit on a bench for five minutes and hear five different languages walk past you.
New York City is the place to be this weekend (we saw a guy arrested before we even got out of the airport) but it is the proverbial “great place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live here.”
Then again, John Lennon loved the place.